Stormfront 2
by juliasejanus
Summary: Repost, rewrite, major plot reworking. The past has left Alex a semi- celebrity. He's still dealing with the fall out from his time with Yassen. Impulsive and his own worst enemy. Alex's journey into adulthood is a bumpy one. WARNING SLASH Alex/Yassen; Alex/OMC
1. Chapter 1

THIS IS A REPOSTING OF MY STORY, A SEQUEL TO STORMFRONT

REALLY DID NOT LIKE THE ORIGINAL SO, THIS HAS ADDITIONS AND CHANGES BUT AFTER CHAPTER 17 IT IS A COMPLETE REWRITE.

Alex sat on the bed and packed the last of his meagre possessions in his rucksack. He was off to spend three weeks with Sergeant Dixon, who true to his word, had kept in touch with Alex and had kindly offered to help him get his driving and motorcycle tests. In two weeks Alex was seventeen. The teenager had accomplished his game plan within his timescales. He had taken his A levels after a year at Chichester College, and fingers crossed he had passed. Well, it was almost a certainty, he was a straight A student. His last exam had been two days ago and there was no reason for him to stay in his bedsit. He was free of the social care system and now in limbo. Alex still lamented his removal from his foster placement last summer. He'd liked life with Lottie and Miriam but after his sixteenth birthday he'd been moved to a half way house in Chichester. With this semi-independence, he'd worked and saved money for this moment, he was going to travel. Small steps first, Harry, Edward and the Sprintz's had offered him room and board He really wanted to go to Russia and eastern europe before he decided on which university course he wanted to do.

He'd spoken to Karen at CAFCASS, she was happy with Alex's progress and his general life goals. He was no longer on anti depressants. He'd had a full year at college without incident, even with his changes in accommodation. Twice over the last year he'd gone on holiday with both James and his father Dieter and he'd spent several weekends with Edward Pleasure and his family in London. Alex was supposedly right where he should be for his age and development. The 18 months after Ian's death were a blip in his otherwise stellar academic record. He rarely spoke to Jack and irregularly sent her postcards detailing his achievements. He'd had a big fight with Tom last June, over his decision to join the army. Alex had gone to visit all this old year-mates at Brookland to celebrate them taking their GCSE's. The party had been weird to say the least. It was like being trapped in a time capsule. His old classmates had been unsure how to treat him and Alex had withdrawn into his mask of indifference. Tom had told Alex of his decision to go army college in Harrogate, on the fast track for Sandhurst the day after the party. Tom wanted to join the SAS, go figure? Alex treated Tom like he was insane. Alex maybe should not have called the SAS a bunch of tossers, but Tom thought everything Alex had told him about them had been cool. Alex now though he really must apologise to his old friend. The SAS weren't that bad, overall they had been lied to by Blunt as well. Harry Dixon, Doc Pritchard and even Fox were OK. He was sure if the bastards at Brecon had known he was 14 in 2001 they'd have binned him before any training had started. Alex had accepted his fate then and the SAS had followed orders.

Alex could not say he enjoyed the bus journey from Chichester to Wales with its many changes and wait periods. The Sergeant had come to pick him up from the town centre. With a shake of the sergeant's head, he assessed the changes to the boy in front of him, after not seeing him for eighteen months. At base, Alex had been marched straight to Medical. The MO was equally unimpressed when his skeletal frame was exposed when he removed his baggy clothes.

Alex overheard the MO's forceful appraisal to Harry Dixon, when the pair were in the next room as he lay on the examination table... "That child is eight kilos underweight for his height, almost dangerously so. His file from Marius in London stated he controls his eating. He's borderline clinically anorexic. Any serious exertion will put a strain on his heart. If he wanted to join the army he'd be an F. Medically unfit for service."

The Major came into the room and told Alex to get dressed. "Do you eat?"

"Yeah. I've been vegan for three months." Alex told the man truthfully.

"Vegan." the MO dismissed. "Is this an ethical thing then?"

"Umm no. I kept throwing up. I restricted by diet to what didn't make me ill. No dairy, no eggs. I quit meat because it seemed a sensible progression."

The MO looked at Alex like he had two heads "Do you eat any carbohydrate?"

Alex considered what he normally ate "Gluten free bread, brown rice, rice crackers."

"Potatoes?"

"Umm no, not really." Alex could not remember the last time he'd eaten chips or crisps. Lottie and Miriam had weaned him off junk food.

"No pasta?"

"It tends not to be vegan." Alex said honestly.

"Right. Alex, I'm putting you on an emergency high calorie diet. 4000 calories a day. Please eat meat and potatoes. Come back in a week and we'll see if you've put on any weight."

Alex was next shuffled off to see Dr. Pritchard.

It started with the Doc reading the notes from the MO. "Right Alex, what happened to the sports mad teenager who ran, played football, studied karate and swam."

"Umm I've been a bit busy. Weekend job, school and living on my own. I admit I've lost a bit of weight. I still run and swim every week and I bike everyday."

"So you eat three meals a day with two snacks."

Alex rubbed his neck "Maybe not. I tend to skip meals. I've been stressing about my A Levels and college's vegetarian options often contain dairy or eggs. I guess one meal and one snack's about average."

"You really need to look after yourself, as in the whole picture. Healthy body is important as a healthy mind. On the good side, you've been off antidepressants for five months. No depresssion, insomnia, flashbacks or nightmares."

"Nightmares yes at least one every two weeks, sometimes more if I'm stressed. Insomnia is not a problem now. No flashbacks in the last six months. Depression well thats relative I'm just not happy go lucky. I get by."

"Any self harm?"

Alex answered emphatically "No, not since St Jude's."

"Do you still smoke?"

"The occasional drag. A couple a week at most. Its not a habit anymore"

"Drink or take any illegal substances?"

"I'm a law abiding citizen, Doc." Alex said cheekily.

"Answer the question, Alex."

"I smoke a few joints. Drink a few beers OK. Nothing major. Only at parties really."

"Are you sexually active?" the doc looked at Alex intensely.

Alex was slightly unnerved by this and then quipped "Umm. My right hand and I are in a deep, meaningful and mutually inclusive relationship."

The doc shook his head at this and continued "Have you been dating?"

"I have been on a few dates, both males and females, but it did not work out. I did not initiate any physical contact, never mind sexual, with any of them. The only person I let touch me is James."

"James?" queried the doctor.

"James Sprintz. We became friends, best friends really, after St. Jude's. We were roomies. Not that its sexual. I think James is 100% into girls and he is really into girls. Regular playboy."

"Why become Vegan?"

"Oh well, I been feeling a bit off, indigestion and nausea. There was this girl in college, Leanne. She told me about allergies to dairy, eggs and wheat. So I cut them out of my diet. I went to this vegan cafe/wholefood shop and got a saturday job. I stopped eating all meat and fish then. I guess existing on peanut butter on toast and salads is not a good thing for a teenager. I stopped drinking tea and coffee as well."

"Did you go on a date with Leanne?"

"God, no. She's a lesbian. She got me involved in the Gay/Lesbian Society at college. Didn't help with me actually liking anyone as in I'll let you touch me. I tend to make friends with people who have no interest in me, you know sexually. Gay girls and straight boys. Go figure. Not threatening I guess." Alex paused and took a deep breath.

"I've never been completely truthful about Yassen. I had rose tinted spectacles over our whole thing." Alex had to say the words, he paused. "Going over details with friends has really given me perspective." The doc looked his usual calm accepting self and was about to speak when Alex continued. "I think I kind of thought it, the bad bits, had not happened. You know when you have that awful feeling you don't know if its nightmares or actual memories. You know at Kiev, during training... that awful day." Alex stopped not wanting to continue. "After that I did anything for Yassen. We regularly fucked after that. Consensual. I instigated contact mostly. I wanted Yassen to love me. He didn't. I think he pitied me. Called me fucked in the head."

Doc Pritchard knew Alex was drawing a line over the past. The teenager was acknowledging his problems over intimacy. It was a reasoned and mature self awareness that he still had problems but was working on it. "Well Alex, lets look at some inkblots." Alex had actually never been more happy for someone to change the subject.


	2. Chapter 2

Alex looked at the ridiculous amount of food the sergeant had placed on his tray for dinner. He could almost weep in frustration. "Eat all of it. That's an order from the MO." stated Harry Dixon in his no nonsense or you'll be binned voice. His eyes were worried though.

Alex started by picking up the three slices of bread and made sandwiches out of the slices of beef. He then put them on the side to eat last, the best bit of the sorry Catering Corps meal in front of him. One by one the stack of overcooked boiled potatoes were pushed into his mouth and swallowed. The mushy vegetables went the same way. He even had pudding. God, Alex hated pudding.

The Sergeant sympathised, "You don't look like your enjoying that." Fruit pie and cold custard was being shoveled and swallowed without chewing into Alex's mouth. Washed down with a large glass of water.

"No. I'm not. I'd have preferred a salad or stirfry. This is just stodge. Worst than school food." Alex grimaced. Food at Petrus had been shit, it still beat army food. Alex did not like the tradtional meat and two veg, sunday roasts and most english food. He could blame his mostly continental childhood and the fact Jack had never cooked such abominations. When eating out with Ian, Alex had picked chicken or fish over red meat. Always the healthy option.

"Pizza still your favourite?" questioned the Sergeant remembering him eating it almost continually when in the base hospital two years previously.

At fifteen, pizza had been like manna from heaven after a year of either hospital or school food. "I'm vegan. Well not any more, Doctors orders. I guess Pizza is my favourite food again." No matter where they had been living, Jack had always found the best pizza restaurant within days, a takeaway favourite for both of them when Ian was out being an international banker.

"You stick to the diet for four days and we'll have pizza on Friday."

"And beer?" added Alex, hopefully.

"And beer, you drive a hard bargain, trouble." laughed the Sergeant.

Alex earned a new nickname from the rest of the nutjobs at Brecon, Scarecrow. Well, he was stick thin with a shaggy mane of longish blond hair, it certainly fit. The name was slightly better than double-o-nothing.

Alex had enjoyed his two hectic weeks with the Sergeant, the whole visit only marred by his regular check-ups as he was called to the MO's office at the end of each week. The major was frustrated by the last set of results. "You have not gained weight, but neither have lost any. Keep eating regular meals. Forget about being a vegan, please."

Alex had both his car and motorcycle driving licenses. More a formality of just passing the four tests since Ian had showed him how to drive when he was 10. There had even been a weird birthday party for Alex at Harry Dixon's house, when E unit turned up with their family and partners. Sergeant had got a large chocolate cake. All in all it had been Alex's best and most chaotic birthday ever. Alex had not even freaked out when playing twister or blind man's buff with E unit and their kids.

Alex was sat at Newport Railway Station on his way up to London. Edward wanted to talk to him. Alex had been surprised a year ago when Edward had visited with his finished article for the Guardian for his approval. Alex had thought it was all in the Royal and General's court, to be asked his opinion had been touching and a complete surprise. It had been embarrassing at the way Lottie and Miriam proved to be a couple of fangirls. Edward at that meeting had stated he wanted to write a book on Alex's kidnapping. Alex had spent about a month thinking about it before photocopying a load of pages from his various journals and posting them to Edward. Their relationship had grown from there. He liked the journalist's family as well. Liz had accepted him, weird diets and all. Sabina tolerated the occasional visitor as part of her dad's work rather than as a friend

Alex walked into the offices of the Guardian and was told by the receptionist that Edward was running late. Alex lay down on the sofa and fell asleep.

"...lex...Alex? Wake up! Sorry I ran late. How was your trip to Wales?".

The two men sat in the conference room. Edward was putting the finishing touches to the manuscript and wanted to iron about a few points. Alex hated this. He had opened his soul, they had both sifted through the contradictions in place caused by the death of Herod Sayle. Alex's presence in Cornwall and London were the tissue of lies that he had been the ward of the man he and his uncle had spied on, the man Yassen had killed. Yassen was named in the book by his first name only. No mention of Cossack or Scorpia. Edward knew from Alex's silences over the few items that could not be spoke of even though Alex had written about the truth fully in his journals.

The digital recorder replaying an interview taken the previous summer. The issue of the nightmare twisted from operational detail to an problem during his high adventure, activity filled childhood, Ian's way of preparing him for what he had faced in Brecon, Port Tallon, London and later with Yassen.

...

_Tell me about your worse experience with your kidnapper?_

_It was after the torture. We had settled into the routine of teacher and student. Yassen explained the principals of shooting, his style of shooting and I stupidly in a Yoda/Skywalker Jedi in training type moment said that what Yassen wanted was impossible. He was normally so cool and collected, that was the only time I have seen him completely furious. He grabbed me by my hair and dragged me across the farm to an abandoned shed. There was a trap door in the floor. He threw it open and I was bodily thrown in. I was not expecting a tank filled with freezing cold water. I was winded as I hit the water. He shut the door. I was treading water in a tank with no light, no supports and no way out._

_A week earlier I'd had a nightmare. Well night terror. Yassen had woken me and had comforted me, he held me as I calmed down and he asked what had scared me. I had dreamt about an incident when I had been potholing. Ian , my uncle, liked extreme sports and encouraged me to like them too. I already had a PADI experienced diver grade. I was in a tunnel it was dark and I panicked. It was a case of go forward and I'd be OK. Ian always taught me to think for myself, to remain calm and to proceed logically. I used calming exercises to go forward and I was OK. I had dreamed of being trapped underwater in the dark, with no light you don't know which is the way to safety. I told Yassen all this, trusted him with my fears and he used it against me._

_I freaked out in the tank, screaming and pleading for Yassen to let me out. It took a while to realise that Yassen would not respond to my hysterics. I calmed down. I controlled my panic. I tread water. You can survive for hours just treading water. The cold got to me. My teeth were chattering. I was shivering. It was like an eternity of cold eating into my bones. I was starting to falter when Yassen opened the trap door and dropped in a rope. I was cold and exhausted but Yassen stood above me, waiting. I had to climb out myself. I used my numb fingers to remove my clothes which were weighing me down and I hauled myself out. I had proven to Yassen I was strong. I was a survivor._

_He wrapped me up in a blanket and we returned to our hut. Warm with a blazing fire. Yassen pulled off the wet blanket and raised a cane. I instinctively protected my head and he beat me savagely. He stopped and then he raped me. No warning he just pushed me down and fucked me. I was split in two, it hurt so much. I was in a world of pain. Yassen pulled out of me after he climaxed. Then held me as I wept. Told me that I needed to be punished. I had to accept Yassen's instructions if I was to be strong, independent, to be my own man. He held me until I fell asleep. I think thats when I stopped being a little boy, from being Ian's Alex and became Yassen's Alex, I was his completely. The next morning I initiated sex. I went down on Yassen. I sucked his cock. I took my time to pleasure him, to wring out his orgasm. I was his to mould, to teach, to fuck. I had decided to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He fucked me again that morning. Slow and long. Just as painful as the night before, but I came so hard. Pain and pleasure were Yassen's to control. We had training that afternoon. I did everything Yassen told me. I became one with the gun. I did everything to his standards. No more complaining. As I tidied up and put the targets and guns away. I told Yassen I loved him. I did love him. He was everything to me. Up down, black white. Day night. My world was now Yassen. He looked so sad when I said it. I would do anything for Yassen, except make him happy. I knew he would never love me._

...

Edward watched as Alex sat with a sad lost expression on his face, caught in that moment. Thinking about his time with Yassen. The journalist switched the digital recorder to record.

"Alex, you told me this experience caused your most vivid flashbacks and nightmares. Does it still affect you now, nearly three years after your kidnapping?"

"Umm. Yes, No, Maybe. I don't know." Alex sat back and bit his fingernails. "I know I'm still not normal, even after four stays in psych units. I still have nightmares but the PTSD is a thing of the past. I still don't like people touching me. I have yet to have sex or date seriously. I think I want to but its a big leap to let someone in. I have a few close friends. I'm not on anti-depressants anymore. I want to go to uni, maybe. I definitely want to travel. Life is an open book."

"OK, I think I'll ghost out the final chapter as in where you are now Alex. I have a few mockups for cover artwork for you to look at, OK?"

"I bet its the hostage shot." Alex added cheekily.

"It is. There are a few other photos I want to put in, school photos from Brookland. The photo you and Jack, one of you and Ian, I also have photos from your time in Israel, at school and at St. Jude's."

"Do you want a photo of us together?"

"I would. If thats alright. Can I arrange that with Michael?" Edward made a note in his Filofax. Alex looked at the photos. Reminiscing is something Alex never got at all. It was all past. Done and dusted. He looked at Jack and thought about visiting her in the States. Jack was now working in Washington, nearer to her parents in Baltimore.

"Oh, Alex, I reviewed your file from CAFCASS. There were a few letters that were not passed on to you from your Godfather. Mr. Howell was viewed as not a suitable influence and they rejected his attempts for contact or custody. Do you want to read them?"

Alex vaguely remembered his godfather from a visit in 1994. "Ash wanted to see me?"

"Yes Alex. He was checked out by social services. He has a history of violent behaviour." Edward passed over notes he had made on Anthony Sean Howell. "Ian did not even name him in his will as a possible guardian for you. Ash is based in Sydney but works abroad a lot."

"A bit like Ian, really." Alex was not surprised if Ash turned out to be another spook. "Last time I saw him we lived in London for a few months when I was seven. He dated Jack. I went to the park with him once. He really did not like kids. He didn't even come to Ian's funeral. If he'd wanted me he could have taken custody then." Alex did not know the man. "I better read his letters to see what excuses he has for being such a shitty godfather. "


	3. Chapter 3

Alex was getting restless. He'd been at Edward's lovely Notting Hill home for over a week and it was getting to be just too nice and normal. The fact that Sabina, Edward's daughter was stressing over her up and coming exams was like deja vu, as Alex had already taken his. Sabina wanted to read English at Oxford and be a writer like her dad. She had not been impressed with Alex when he had told Edward that he wrote poetry. Edward had wanted to read them, but Alex wrote in russian and he thought they lost their impact if translated into english. Edward had taken a couple of the poems to look at anyway. In general, Alex kept his contact with Sabina to a minimum. Dealing with happy normal people was always stressful. Sabina was the ultimate perfect daughter; beautiful, bright, popular. She had never been hurt, threatened, blackmailed or abused. Both her parents doted on her. It was happy families and it all made Alex feel like an outsider. All Alex had was a godfather, who had let that bastard Ian bring him up and then left him for Blunt to abuse. Alex had read and reread the letter's Edward had given him and discarded them. The three letters were odd, each were distant missives inquired about Alex's health and well being. All were too little too late. No wonder Karen had kept the letters. The guy had no idea how to relate to a disturbed teenager and was only offering contact and custody as a matter of what was expected of him than any real concern. Who was this man and who had he been to Alex's mother and father anyway?

Alex ran daily as a way to relax and to escape concerned adults and their incessant chatter. Every day he ran a four mile circuit. He was always watchful, was he being being followed, were there any inconsistencies? As he crossed through Hyde Park, he noticed a familiar tall lean figure standing reading a copy of Izvestiya. Alex slowed and watched as the man, folded and binned the paper before turning and walking away. Alex had the choice, to leave or to follow. He jogged behind the retreating figure at a careful distance, just to make sure there were no other bogeys about. Following the figure from his past had committed him to a path of possible destruction. Alex finally stood next to the man he'd followed for the past twenty minutes in the lift of a mid range hotel south of Hyde Park. The two figures made no outward appearance of familiarity or recognition. Alex exited the lift on the floor above Yassen, and then walking down the stairs. The door of Room 432 was ajar. Alex stepped through and closed the door. He was not surprised to be manhandled to face the wall, arms on the wall, legs kicked apart. The search was thorough and undertaken with practiced ease. The pat down revealed Alex was just wearing track suit bottoms, long sleeved t-shirt and trainers. Liz, Edward's wife, was at home working so Alex did not even need a house key.

Alex's clothes were pulled off and a deeper more invasive search commenced in the small bathroom, Alex's hair was carefully examined, from scalp to tip. Mouth, ears, eyes were given the once over, before a full cavity search commenced. Alex remained placid and still throughout it all.

"No tricks, Alex" stated a cool accent-less voice as he motioned Alex to return into the bedroom.

Alex knelt on the floor with his hands on his head. The russian assassin then sat down on the only chair in the room to watch his captive. Alex knew if he made any sudden moves he would be dead.

Alex looked at Yassen and made up his mind to talk. "I missed you."

A wry half smile broke out on Yassen's face. "So, do you think you have passed your final exams?"

"Umm yeah. Straight A's according to the teachers at Chichester College. I have not applied to uni... I can't decide whether to do Russian studies or Spanish. I could even go to college abroad."

"Yes you could. Such a bright boy. Your father would be very proud." Yassen continued to look at Alex. They both remained in their respective positions. Alex's knees beginning to get cramp when Yassen spoke again. "I see my lessons in patience paid off. I have some information for you."

"About MI6?"

"No. A fellow russian has invited Mr. Pleasure and his family to stay over the Easter holidays. The invitation that has been extended because this man wants to meet you Alex. Edward thinks of him as a friend. He owns a publishing house in Russia. One that will print a translation of Mr. Pleasure's book on your kidnapping. Edward sent him your poems and now the man is intrigued by you. Edward like's your poems by the way." Yassen then stood up and helped Alex onto the bed. Alex's heart sped up. Here he was, naked beside his Yassen. He could feel the warmth of the russian's body.

"This man appears to be cultured, harmless but he is an arms dealer. He has connections to terrorists. I want you to be careful." Yassen smiled. "Sergei Rushkov is a homosexual. He likes young lovers. He will try to entice you, seduce you. See him for what he is, a user." The assassin turned to the young man beside him. One that had grown to look so like John, with the exception of his mother's blond hair. The cold blue eyes warmed with inner mirth and remembrance of his old friend.

"Do you want me to pass on what I observe?" asked a disgruntled Alex, who had realised that this short meeting would be all he saw of Yassen.

"I came to warn you Alex. I am not asking you to whore yourself for information."

"In my place you would though. You need to accomplish this task and I could help you" Alex chewed on his bottom lip.

Yassen spoke in a whisper "Alex, this will be very dangerous. Do not expose yourself. I will have no direct contact with you. I cannot protect you. Rushkov is a very dangerous man, as dangerous as me"

"So, its dangerous." Alex shrugged. "I still want to go to Moscow. Probably nothing will happen. I'm just a fucked up child after all"

"You have not been a child for a long time. Maybe you should go stay with your friend in Germany."

Alex looked at Yassen, putting off thinking of the future, he kissed Yassen hard, using his teeth to bite the russian's lips. Forcing intimacy and he was not disappointed when the russian responded just as forcefully. Not giving an inch. Alex had missed this. For once he felt something. No longer existing, this made him feel alive.

Alex showered before he ran back fast and hard to Notting Hill. Alex had left the hotel room without a backwards glance at Yassen.

That evening, Alex played with his food as Edward talked of the planned five day trip to Moscow to visit his friend Sergei Rushkov. Alex was excited about visiting Moscow. He wondered what this Rushkov fellow was like. Immensely rich, successful and how he had now earned the attention of Scorpia and not in a good way.


	4. Chapter 4

Alex hung back as Edward introduced his wife and daughter to the tall, handsome grey haired impeccably dressed man who had dark, almost black intense eyes. Alex noted the man spoke excellent english. Alex was tired after the flight and car journey to the huge dacha located south of Moscow. Alex had been expecting they'd be staying in some hotel in central Moscow, but Edward had been invited into Sergei's home. He observed the house, its exists, the private drive, the surrounding forest. It was a nightmare, a trap. Alex was in turmoil, trying to decide whether to play or to stay safe. Alex had decided to hang back and give nothing away to see how this visit played out.

Sergei Rushkov saw the young man, stood in the hall yawn. This was Alex Rider. He was tall, thin boy with a schooled, bored expression on his face. The mask of indifference that Edward had spoken about. Sergei led his guests into his large den. Comfortable sofas, a dining set and a selection of cold supper dishes had been set out. Alex moved to eat. He was starving. He looked at the various delicacies and made up a plate of black bread, cheese and sliced meat and then moved to get a can of coca cola.

Alex withdrew into himself, speaking little over the week, as he joined the Pleasures as they explored Moscow during the day and relaxed with Sergei at night. Alex retired early rather than interact, feeling left out of the family dynamic. The young man had noted that Sergei continued to watch him intensely. It was strange but Alex liked the scrutiny. On the friday, Edward, Liz and Sabina were off to go to the Tolstoy estate. While Alex had read Tolstoy, museums tended to be dry and boring and the whole thing was not his idea of fun. Alex decided to stay behind to read.

Sergei noted the boy, no young man standing by the open door of his office. So, Alex had not gone out today. Alex spoke in soft, hesitant russian, the first time he'd spoken to Sergei in russian. "I want to thank you for allowing me to stay. I wanted to visit Russia. I think I would like to stay and maybe go to university here."

Sergei was surprised by the fluency of Alex's russian and by the distinct Moscovite accent. "I am glad you have enjoyed your visit, you are welcome to stay as long as you want."

"Really?" Alex was shocked, the man was inviting him to stay after they had only spoken a handful of words together.

"Really. I know a few professors if you want an introduction."

"That would be cool." Alex then shuffled about, he bit his nails before asking. "Would you like to go out for lunch? I spotted a really cool place yesterday. If you have the time?"

"Sure. Why not." Sergei wanted to jnow Alex better. He could understand the reluctance of the teenager to trust or to connect, especially after his horrific ordeal three years previously.

Alex's chosen location for lunch had turned out to be in a small coffee house filled with a mixture of students and tourists in Central Moscow. The atmosphere was smoky and loud. The music was not to Sergei's tastes but he was not seventeen. He watched as Alex ate and talked of music he liked and a musician who'd encouraged him to write verse. They walked around Red Square after lunch.

"Is it really OK for me to stay? Its just I really don't have a flat or anything at the moment. I've just been bumming with friends. Three weeks with Harry, three weeks with the Pleasures. I planned to visit James."

Sergei was half amused by Alex's rambling, but more interested in Alex's friends, "Who are Harry and James?"

"Harry was, no is an army sergeant. We kept in touch after I spent six weeks at boot camp when I was fifteen. I'd had at that point a failed foster placement, a crummy time in the children's home and at boarding school. They tried to sort me out. It worked mostly. He thinks I need a strong father figure. Its cool. Umm, James and I were roomies at St. Jude's Therapy Centre. Both complete fuck-ups really. Best friends. We both got better, sort of. I went skiing with them at Christmas, James and his dad Dieter, Dieter Sprintz. You might know him."

Sergei smiled "We have been introduced by mutual acquaintances." He thought back to the particularly boring charity event where they'd met , before asking, "His son was mentally ill?"

"James.. PTSD, like me. He'd been held hostage at some school in France. Channeled all his angst into sex, booze and drugs. I tried that as well mind you. Not the sex.. Booze and drugs, it takes the edge of things. I'm clean now. Not even antidepresaants. Only the occasional beer." Alex cringed he was rambling again.

Alex broke the news to Edward that he was staying to look into going to uni here. Edward was surprised, worried and encouraging. Alex took note of Edward's concerns.

Alex had put on nearly a stone since Hereford and phoned Doc Pritchard with the news. The first week in Moscow on his own, Alex weight trained with Sergei's bodyguards, visited the libraries in Moscow and wrote several poems. At then end of the week Sergei took Alex to the ballet. The older russian had been appalled that Alex had never been to either the ballet or the opera. Something he was going to educate him about.

During his second week in Moscow, Alex met with Anna Mostova and she selected several poems for publication. Alex was nervous but she told him, he had a russian soul. Go figure. Alex then told Anna he had russian ancestor's on his mother's side of the family. His grandmother had been born in St. Petersburg.


	5. Chapter 5

WARNING CHAPTER CONTAINS MATURE SITUATIONS/SEXUAL CONTENT

Sergei watched as Alex sparred with two of his spetsnaz trained bodyguards. As soon as Alex had told him he was a black belt in karate he had wanted to see him in action. His guards were highly trained in hand to hand combat but Alex feigned and parried before delivering devastating attacks and defeating his two opponents. Sergei's desire for the seventeen year old grew and grew.

Alex drank from a bottle of water before joining Sergei on the sofa. Alex's chest was on show through the loosened karate jacket. Sergei noted the several scars on view.

Alex inwardly smiled, he liked when Sergei looked at him like he was the only thing in the universe. The whole intensity of it was a turn on. Alex's internal debate over this dangerous man was being lost to his hormones. He was horny and he was the object of this man's affection. "Do you want to fuck me?" Alex stated as a matter of fact as the two bodyguards left.

Sergei was a bit shocked at Alex's brazen statement. "I want all of you Alex, mind body and soul. What do you want from me?"

"You have given me so much already." Alex fidgeted, from self assured to lonely, frightened boy in a second. The man was asking questions and not jumping Alex's bones. He was on thin ice over wanting something from a relationship. He wanted what Yassen would not, could not give, love, belonging, everything apart from just fucking. " I want you to love me, treasure me, to hold me. As long as you'll have me. I want happy ever after or as close it it as humanly possible."

Sergei kissed Alex and the younger man melted into his embrace. Alex broke off and said "Please don't abandon me, please don't hurt or betray me. Be mine and mine alone." He was asking everything of Sergei who did not ask for the same in return. Alex was now sure it was a house of cards, all lies, but right here and now, he did not care, soon he would be lost in sensation. He could understand that.

"I accept your terms, Sasha." Sergei wanted to pin the young man down and fuck him. No, thats what whores were for. He reeled himself in and took Alex into the bathroom. This would be a long slow, sensual seduction. He was sure Alex had only known fucking. He would give this boy the night of his life and would treat him like this always. Here was a trained assassin, one he was about to bed, one who was a perfect submissive. Sergei had been fascinated by Edward's text, his description of the training the boy had endured. It was beyond his hopes and dreams, a lover both deadly and compliant.

Sergei almost stopped his seduction when he undressed Alex. He never expected to see the map of suffering on the boy's back, chest, stomach, arms and legs. This boy had been a slave. Submission had been beaten, whipped and burned into him. Sergei could almost weep that something so beautiful and so precious had been treated so cruelly. This boys soul sang through his compositions. Sergei cupped the young man's face and drew him in for a soft kiss. "No one will ever hurt you again."

Alex look puzzled by this. "Sergei, umm sometimes I like to be punished. I want you to crop, spank, cane me. I like, no need it to ground me."

Sergei closed his eyes. His previous lovers had been very tame compared to this young man. He would welcome some of Sergei's less than appealing desires. "And if I wanted to tie you down, collar you, withhold you release. Would you let me."

"Tie me up tie me down I'm so fucking hard now, you better just fuck me."

"Oh no. You're mine now. Patience, patience. I want to savour you. I need to map your body, note your desires, your responses. I need to know you fully. You belong to me now. Mind body and soul."

In the bath, Sergei carefully washed Alex and allowed him to reciprocate. Touches enticed delightful responses from both men. Sergei leaned Alex over to clean him out. He fingered Alex's tight pucker, he stretched past the muscle and soaped him inside. His fingers sweep Alex's inner walls noting some scaring. Proof the boy had been raped, possibly repeatedly.

Alex whined "Please."

"Not yet my love. I'm only getting you clean." He rinsed the boy out with the hose. "I like you clean. I want to fuck you with my tongue." Alex shivered with anticipation.

Alex noted how meticulous Sergei was at washing him. Every nook and cranny was explored.

Sergei noticed that Alex did not like having his feet or toes touched. It was a pain response.

Alex was dried with thick white towels and lead into Sergei's bedroom. A large bed was covered in silk sheets. Stout wooden posts at each corner and a padded foot and head board. Sergei pushed the young man onto the sheets and lay on top of him, kissing him throughly, dominating the kiss. The older man touched and nipped the young man's skin, and paying special attention to his nipples. Touching and tracing over tendons muscles and bones. Then kissing Alex again.

Alex was in an ecstasy of sensuality. His cock hard to bursting untouched as Sergei explored his body thoroughly. He had never been so throughly kissed. Foreplay extended into an eternity of blissful sensation. Finally Sergei paid attention to his balls rolling then, then touching Alex's cock lightly, weighing the leaking erection. "Beautiful boy, are you ready to come?" At the lightest of touches Alex arched and came hard, a scream on his lips as Sergei drank in the sight. No lover had lasted so long under light sensual torture. Alex had lasted until Sergei had touched his cock when he invited him to come.

Sergei gently cleaned the come off with his tongue and then kissed Alex letting him taste his own essence. He then rolled the boneless man over. A pillow was placed beneath his hips to raise his arse in the air. Sergei then massaged his bottom, parting the cheeks and licked the crease over his anus. "Yes", Alex cried out in surprise. Sergei fucked him with his tongue stabbing, swirling, licking, sucking and kissing. Alex sobbed from the sensation. Sergei reached for the lube and gently started to loosen the ring of muscle. Two then three fingers scissoring. He stroked his fingers against the hub of nerves inside Alex to see his whole body shudder.

Sergei then asked "What do you prefer. On your front or on your back?"

"I want to look at you. I want to kiss you."

Sergei turned Alex who lay on his back. He lined up his cock and slowly sank into Alex's willing body. Alex's legs rested over his shoulders, bending his body up. Kissing Alex deeply, and he slowly started to pull out and back in angling for Alex's prostate. He steeled himself to enjoy every stroke inside the boy, making it last as long as possible before Alex was begging to be allowed to come. Sergei started slamming into Alex, stroking Alex's cock. As Alex came, his muscles clenched driving Sergei's own orgasm. Sergei came with a white out of sensation filling Alex with his release and slumping forward. Sergei came to and pulled out of Alex with a wet pop. He was covered in come. He hadn't had such intense sex for years.

Alex was softly snoring spread eagled on the bed. Sergei went to the bathroom to clean himself off and returned with a towel and gently cleaned Alex.

Alex woke spooned around his lover. He smiled in the early morning light as Sergei stirred. Alex looked at his lovers erection and licked his lips. He moved and Sergei stretched out on his back. Alex looked at the older man's cock. Thick, beautiful and long slightly bent upwards at the end. Alex's fingers ghosted along the hot velvet skin. Sergei groaned. Alex licked along the underside and Sergei cracked open his eyes and smiled. Alex took this as an invitation and swallowed his lovers prick to the back of his throat and hummed. He held Sergei's hips to stop him rising up off he bed and proceeded to try and give the best blow job of his life. Teasing, licking sucking interspaced with kissing and swallowing. Sergei came with Alex burying him to the root. Alex swallowed effortlessly. Then sat up and took in a deep breath.

Alex lay on his back then looked at Sergei. "Am I a keeper then?"

"You Alex are a sensuous, responsive man. I don't think I could tire of you and your wonderful body."

Alex winced as he stood up to go to the bathroom. "Arrh. I feel like I'm a newly deflowered fourteen year old again." He'd forgotten that aspect of being buggered, you really felt it the next day.

Sergei pondered at that statement. He's already read Edward Pleasure's manuscript on how Alex's first sexual experience had been rape. The russian ran a hot bath for them both to relax into before breakfast.

Both men entered the private dining room naked. A buffet was set out with a hot dish of buckwheat porridge and plates of cheese, ham, black bread, butter and fruit on the side.

Alex found out that in private Sergei preferred to be naked. Alex thought it was perfect. More opportunities for being coy, playful or just lewd, to get Sergei aroused. Alex found he was hot and horny all the time. Two and a half years of abstinence counted for nothing. He wanted to be nailed twenty four seven.


	6. Chapter 6

After four days, Alex had moved into Sergei room. He was a full time lover and partner. Sergei took in the fact Alex had a rucksack of belongings, one he had brought from London for a weeks holiday which had now turned into three weeks here and this dacha was now his home for the foreseeable future. Sergei had a walk in wardrobe and dressing room, two racks awaiting Alex's belongings. He would have to get Maria to arrange for Alex's other belongings to be brought here. He imagined the young poet having boxes of books and more clothes and miscellaneous trappings associated with Western teenage boys from game systems to music. "Do you have much left in England that needs couriering here? " the Russian asked, wanting to make his lover happy and fully at home.

Alex smiled as he dropped the rucksack and three journals. "I left my old journals with Edward, he was happy to keep them. So this is everything."

The older man looked appalled at Alex's small range of belongings. "This is all you own?" He reittereated in English, just to make sure the young man had not mistranslated his question.

"Yep my worldly goods." Alex said quite proudly as if one bag of belongings was the most natural thing in the world. He'd sold a lot of his possessions after he finished his exams. Books, dvd's, his bike and anything not really necessary was sold, swapped, binned or given to charity.

Sergei looked at the boy. His background check on Alex had shown that his parent's had not been poor, his father earned over half a million a year for four years with Scorpia. His mother had been ahighly paid nurse in a technical specialism, in London. She had earned enough to live well in the Capital, quite separately from her husband. His uncle earned a decent wage, got regular bonuses and managed the boy's trust to perform well. "Your uncle was a banker, overseas account manager. He earned a six figure salary before bonuses. He owned a house in Chelsea. You have a trust fund worth at least three million pounds sterling." exclaimed Sergei.

"And I'll not see a penny until I'm 21," stated Alex. "I have enough savings to get by." Alex knew he was missing the point somehow as he watched Sergei rummage through the ruck sack. "God, you're going to say I need a make over. I am not a girl!"

Sergei looked at the collection of worn and ill fitting items. He had thought Alex had been into what was it grudge, but these clothes were second, maybe third or fourth hand. Well washed and worn. Others were mass produced shoddy, cheap and poor quality. The boy had been in care. Sergei then made the connection. It was the British equivalent of a state orphanage. The state had provided the bare minimum for survival. No wonder the boy looked half starved and ill groomed. He was obviously always hungry, given enough for basic food, shelter and clothing, but not enough for new. "You need clothes." The russian went to pick up his phone, making a quick decision to change Alex's outlook on life from survival mode to living and living well. "Maria. Maria, darling. I need a favour... Yes yes an emergency. Take Alex shopping... Everything... You have no idea... Completely hopeless... No, I think you can burn what he owns. Half an hour Good."

Alex looked at Sergei warily. "What have I been signed up for?"

"You have never been shopping. You'll either love it or hate it. Maria has a platinum card and very good taste. Trust her." Sergei then walked out of the room muttering "Never been shopping!", and he shook his head. Alex had obviously broken some unwritten rule. Most of Alex's clothes were scavenged from charity shops, only underpants and socks were bought new in bulk packs from the supermarket. He had never been stylish but there had never been any need to be. He had not wanted anyone to notice him. Sergei had seen through the scruffy exterior and liked what he saw. Why did he now need to go shopping? He had one decent outfit for going out. That was enough?

Alex watched the room smoking his filterless russian cigarettes. Alex had never been to the Kremlin before and was impressed by the opulence. The rooms were beyond grand. Sergei was working, the room was filled with officers in uniform and many others wearing designer clothes. The women dressed in haute couture and dripping in diamonds. Alex was dressed to kill to blend in, in a penguin suit picked out by Maria. Some American called Tom Ford had designed it. Alex pulled out his pocket notebook and started playing with words. Alex had started to write love poems. Not nice lovey dovey poems but his reality of hard hopeless love. Alex was lost in his musings when a man came up to him.

Alex recognised a face from his past. "Hello John Masterson, Cigarette?" Alex offered after pocketing his notes. His face blank not wanting to give this spook anything to report on.

The american took the offered tab and welcomed Alex's offer of a light. John Masterson noted the gold cigarette case and matching lighter, both with inscriptions 'from Sergei Abramovich to Alex, with love. "Thank you Alex. How are you doing? Taking your medication?"

Alex was tempted to floor the bastard but he smiled and gently answered, "Why I'm just loving Moscow and I've been clean for over six months now."

Masterson looked at Alex. He looked fit and healthy, before offering his warning of this seventeen year old's chosen lover, if the rumours were true, and considering the cost of the gifts and Alex's new wardrobe, the kid was a kept boy. "Sergei Rushkov is a dangerous man."

Alex smiled and replied "I am a dangerous man, John. Is it scary that I'm a free agent now?"

"Planning to follow in Yassen's footsteps?" inquired the American with an intense gaze. He was going to have words with Sir Charles about Alex's life choices when he got back to safe and secure channels at the embassy.

"No, its too lonely a life for me. I plan on being Sergei's little bed warmer as long as he'll have me. I found I like being a whore." With that blunt statement of fact, Alex left the CIA man to ponder his words and went in search of some refreshments.

Sergei walked up to his young lover who was stood on a terrace as if waiting to leave. His security had passed on that the CIA station chief in Moscow had been talking to Alex. "So Alex, are the CIA interested in you?"

"John Masterson was part of the extraction team that rescued me after I was abducted. He gave me cigarettes once I was off oxygen." Alex would rather not remember those times. The empty feeling creeping into his soul, he was just a bed warmer. Then for Yassen and now for Sergei.

"You were injured?" Sergei asked, knowing that Alex had been abandoned by his kidnapper rather than exchanged. In that short period Alex had slashed his wrists, Sergei had understood it had not been that serious, having been found quickly and treated by the American Navy.

"No, I tried to kill myself. The first of three attempts I made over the next year. I was very unhappy. Surely your security people gave you a file on me?" Alex knew Edward had written about Alex's failure to thrive in detail. Even without Yassen, boarding school would have driven him into despair, Chi had been such a breath of fresh air after the hell of Petrus.

"I only read bits and pieces . I'm sure it didn't mention the CIA?" Sergei looked puzzled, he was sure he would have remembered details like that.

"I bet it didn't mention MI6 either. When I got back to London I was wrung dry for all information on Yassen and the people he works for. Then I went to the clinic in Israel and they tried to fix me." Alex stated morosely, glossing over the few facts that he could not discuss.

The russian looked at Alex's blank face. "Tried?"

Alex looked at his lover and smiled. "I'm a complete fuck-up Sergei. No sane person occasionally cuts themselves to ribbons." With that Alex seems to shrink in on himself.

Sergei stroked Alex's face. "Beautiful boy. You were writing earlier?"

Alex pulled out his small notebook and opened at his most recent page of scribbles. "Yes, I was thinking of you. Read."

Sergei was genuinely surprised "Oh Alex. For me?"

"For you, Sergei Abramovich."

_Fill the raging emptiness inside me, still the silent storm. Is it love I feel? Such an alien concept to a lost soul like me. Possess me, calm my pain. Love me, if you can._

Sergei was kissing him, in public at a state function, not caring of the taboo. Alex pulled away to ask "Is it love Sergei?"

"I have loved you since I first saw you, dear boy. I am blessed to have you in my life".


	7. Chapter 7

Alex had lived in Moscow happily for ten weeks, when Sergei announced they were off on a business trip.

"Where are we going, again?" Alex asked as he watched Maria pack for both him and Sergei. Maria was Sergei's girl friday. She organised his diary, business contacts and the events that he had to attend for networking. The woman always attached to her phone, working impossibly long hours and totally devoted to her boss. Alex liked Maria talking to her, when her schedule allowed about music, her family, his lack of family and she was highly amused when he stole her office supplies. She lived and breathed all Sergei's business. Alex was sure she disapproved of him, seeing him as a damaged child. Then again, Maria probably knew Sergei better than anyone. Alex was not the first boy to share the Russian's apartment. He thought she liked him only to practice her English conversation skills.

"Korea" answered Maria.

"As in Seoul?" Alex said thinking of the the 2002 World Cup.

"No, the other Korea" said Maria.

"There's another one?" stated Alex with a straight face. He thought North Korea was a closed society, Stalinist or Maoist hardline and very anti anything western. Russia was now an evil capitalist state as well.

"Didn't you do geography in school?" Maria looked at Alex like he was an idiot.

"I tended to sleep in Geography." Alex was actually telling the truth, Mr Scott at Brookland had been the most boring man in the universe. He had been glad to drop the subject at Petrus. Yassen had talked of Korea, both the the Communist North and the Western South. Alex had noted a subtle inference from the man, neutral in all things, a job was a job. For an assassin there was no divide, no religion, no politics.

Maria's phone rang and she walked into the main room to get better reception. Alex stood and took advantage of her distraction and noted Sergei's itinerary and contacts for the next two months. A single glance was enough for him to memorize people, dates and events. Ian would be so proud of him using the skills Ian instilled in him without a second thought or a twinge on his conscience.

The learjet landed at a bleak military airbase. Sergei had been all business on the flight. At the top of the planes's exit, Alex looked at the soldiers of the advance guard. Sergei was being warmly greeted by a general who had an impossible amount of medals on his chest. Alex exited the plane wearing jeans, a t shirt and a wolf fur coat, which he drew around himself as he silently descended the stairs. As Alex reached the tarmac, a young colonel talked to Alex in impeccable english. "So you are Sergei Rushkov's 'son'?" The man confused by the presence of a teenage companion.

Alex looked at the Korean like he was insane "No, the preferred the term is lover, but I have been called whore. Son is a new one."

Colonel Kim turned out to be Alex's own personal not so subtle minder, tail and bodyguard. He kept Alex company as Sergei worked. His russian was also excellent. It was all so stilted, polite and boring. There was no real TV, only state sanctioned newspapers, books and the teenagers movements were restricted to the hotel. North Korea had turned out to be the most boring place in the Universe. He tried to write, but Colonel Kim was not amusing or conducive to being creative. Alex thought on a more Vogon approach to verse on the lines of 'Ode to a lump of green putty I found in my belly button one day'. Maybe Douglas Adam's had based Vogon's on party apparatchiks. What would the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy say about grey and bleak Pyongyang? After a long, protracted silence, Alex tried a phrase of hebrew on the Korean and Kim looked at him strangely. "I do not know this language?"

"It was a quote from some of the oldest poetry known. One of King David's psalms." Alex had learned a few snippets of Hebrew since his stay in Israel. He could get by in the language but was no where near fluent. He had even tried to read the Torah, not that Alex was in the slightest bit devout, he had spoken three rabbi's over the years, never getting any sense of perspective on the mess that was his life.

"You are religious?" inquired the Korean as if reading his mark's mind.

"No, I just appreciate the written and spoken word. Teach me some Korean Poetry." What a question to ask of someone in military intelligence.

As it turned out, Kim was not a poetic man and he eventually took Alex to meet some scholars at Pyongyang university. Alex traded verses and was invited to a seminar with some of the Phd students. Alex was given some beautiful calligraphy to keep. Poetry was more than just words, it was an art form. Alex then thought to his own scruffily kept journals. Maybe he should make more of an effort to make his finalised verses beautiful to look at. Not just scribbles on a page.

Alex knew the hotel suite was bugged and they were being watched and probably videoed. The suite was on the upper floor of the 'foreigner's only hotel'. On their third night there, he thought of this as he seduced a tired Sergei and enjoyed riding the man's cock and was particularly vocal as his prostate was brushed and screamed his orgasm with vigour.

As he lay in the afterglow Alex whispered to his lover "I love your cock, Sergei."

Sergei mumbled half asleep. Alex wanted intelligent company, to talk of verse, places, people but his lover was asleep. He got up and went onto the balcony still naked to chain smoke and brood. It was cold and bleak, even the city was dark with only occasional pools of light illuminating state portraits and public displays. It was strange to be in a city, so quiet and still. Alex more than ever missed London. He shivered from cold and returned inside, to spent the rest of the night writing in the main room of the suite in the pool of a single side light.

"You have not slept" the russian stated during breakfast in their suite. Alex was naked and looked tired and unhappy.

"I hate this place Sergei. I want you to take my mind off it." Alex stated, feeling guilty for not eating a luxurious breakfast of imported delicacies, in a country where the poor and unfortunate starved.

The businessman looked up from his laptop to stare at his unhappy teenage lover. "How would I do that?"

Alex went to the bedroom, to pick up a walking cane, to return and kneel before Sergei. "Correct my bad mood, master."

Colonel Kim of the State Security was punctual as usual to keep Sergei's young 'lover' company for the day. He entered to suite and the main room was empty. The bedroom door was open and he looked in to see Alex lying asleep face down on the bed, his back, buttocks and thighs mass of red and purple welts.

Sergei arrived back in the rooms to see Colonel Kim asleep on the sofa. Sergei coughed and the Korean jumped up and left. Alex was in the shower having slept the day away. Sergei joined him. Alex kissed the older man and said "Thank you for chasing my demons away."

Sergei ran his finger tips lightly over the welts and bruising "Are you OK or do you need a doctor?"

"I'll be fine. Now I have something to occupy my mind during the state reception tonight."

Alex was not effeminate in any way. But he shaved meticulously, paid attention to style his hair and chose to wear an almost scandalously queer combination to the banquet. Picking out a couple of items that Maria had insisted he'd look fabulous in, but ones that Alex had thought he'd never in a million years wear. The dark satin suit and pink and grey flora shirt were tightly tailored to his thin frame. He looked the part of a young fucktoy. He played the submissive, and kept his eyes downcast and only spoke when spoken to. Sergei kept touching him and was being possessive of his lover. Alex knew he had played the day perfectly to push his lover's buttons. Sergei was aroused and the sex tonight promised to be neither slow nor gentle.

The next morning Alex viewed the bruises, bites and hickeys that littered his torso, arms and neck, matching the dark bruising on his back in the large mirror in the suite's luxurious bathroom. Sergei had taken him three times last night. Alex decided to go for a swim in the hotel's pool to brazenly show off his decorations.

Alex was kept amused by Sergei's continued attentions. He was worried he had been too brutal with him when Alex arrived back from his swim. "Sergei, you were wonderful, strong and exactly what I wanted last night. I want you however you want to take me, slow and long or quick and hard."

Kim took Alex to the base where Sergei was working on their last day in Korea. Alex saw Soldiers training. The Colonel, after a week of strained conversations asked a very personal question of the teenager. "So you have been in mental hospital."

Alex did not want to discuss Yassen, his few lost days in London with Grey or his school trip to Austria, so settled on his time at St. Jude's, where he had stated to deal with his fucked up life. "I did not like boarding school. I got kicked out after getting caught cutting myself. Self mutilation. I was rather enthusiastic and was hospitalised. I normally just dressed my wounds and nobody noticed."

"Cut yourself?" asked the Colonel.

Alex pulled up his sleeves to show off his scars. Kim also noticed the deep bruises on his lower arms and wrists to match those visible on the boy's neck. "There you go, nutcase"

"Have you done this always?" Kim took a long drag of his cigarette, thinking the boy as a masochist. The arms dealer beat and abused him.

"Since I was fourteen. Bad things happened when I was 14. I went a bit nuts at 15. Sixteen was OK, and now I'm 17." Kim looked a bit shocked at Alex being so young.

Alex watched the hand to hand combat and yawned. They then watched a firearms demonstration " Do you teach instinctual firing?"

"I am not familiar with this." Stated the Korean with a blank face.

Alex could not decide of Kim was really ignorant or just lying. "Scorpia standard teaching for snipers and assassins. My father introduced it when he taught at Malagosto in the 1980's. I learnt from one of his pupil's."

"You were taught by Scorpia." This man was a trained assassin and they had treated him like a toy.

"Aren't you a clever boy." Alex just smiled.

Finally they left the depressing hole that was North Korea. Not that much changed, Sergei had more meetings in Beijing and Alex played tourist, only here he was alone with no state sanctioned escort. For two nights Sergei did not return to the hotel. Alex was in a strange mood, ignoring his hunger, watching American talk shows as his stomach rumbled. In a fit of absolute boredom, he phoned Edward Pleasure to catch up on life outside the bubble that was life as the kept boy of an international arms dealer. "How's work, Edward?"

"The book is set for release in October. Can you timetable in some publicity?"

"Sure thing. I'm bored to tears at the moment. What are you writing at the moment?"

"An article on Dieter Sprintz." Edward sighed "Any tips on making his life more interesting?"

"Umm I've snorted coke with his son." Alex added. One fact Dieter Sprintz would not want publicized. Not when both boys were meant to have been clean after St. Jude's. James still liked to party and was oh so much better at not getting caught.

"You have?"

"We were at St. Jude's together."

"Really? That was over a year after the hostage incident at the school in France?"

"Yeah James told me all about that place, Dr Grief and Miss Stomach bag. He told me the SAS went in to rescue the kids." Alex could hear Edward taking notes.

"What's the deal with Rushkov, Alex?. Is it love?" Edward was concerned, he'd introduced Alex to the man who adored poetry, not thinking Alex would end up in bed with him.

"I'll take a raincheck on that. I fear he's fucking someone else tonight. I think I might be jealous. I guess I'll be told to fuck off tomorrow when someone younger, more supple and more fun arrives back with Sergei. Nothing good ever lasts."

"Don't do anything stupid, Alex."

"Stupid is my middle name, Edward."

Alex watched the dawn streaked with smog clouds. At 9am, Sergei called him to tell Alex he was not comfortable with him meeting his current business contact. "Go back home I will contact you in three or four weeks. I have much work to do."

"Am I that much of a distraction?" Alex asked, wondering why Sergei did not want him to meet Major Winston Yu, head of the Snakehead in charge of Organised Crime over much of south-east asia.

"I would worship you all day and night if I could." Sergei stated truthfully.

Alex was booked on the evening flight back to London. He looked at the stuff Maria had packed and pulled out the few items that he had actually bought and changed. He felt alone and empty. Alex left with he clothes on his back, his wallet, ipod, cigarettes, lighter and two journals and left everything else.


End file.
